


Little!five+whump+comfort

by TUA (IAMS)



Series: Little!Five [1]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: AU, Age Play, Caregiver Diego, Crying, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Little Five, Neutral Luther, Non-Sexual Age Play, Number Five | The Boy Needs A Hug, Protective Diego Hargreeves, Protective Luther Hargreeves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:15:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26293999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAMS/pseuds/TUA
Summary: "Five, are you crying?”Five shakes his head adamantly, embarrassed to be seen like this. He’s not quite entirely in his Little head space just yet, only teetering dangerously towards it, and he hates it. “Leave me alone.” he hiccups, covering his face with his forearm to keep them from seeing the tears he can’t hold back anymore.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy & Diego Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Grace Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Luther Hargreeves
Series: Little!Five [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2048684
Comments: 13
Kudos: 301





	Little!five+whump+comfort

**Author's Note:**

> AU where Littles, Caregivers and Neutrals are the norm

Five has managed to avoid being labeled a Little his entire life; before, during, and post the apocalypse. 

And now, stuck in this small, _seemingly_ defenseless prepubescent thirteen year old body, it feels like the world is giving him the middle finger in a big way.

Maybe it's the fact that, for the meantime at least, there is no imminent danger surrounding him and his family and all life threatening action has finally come to an end. 

It’s been two months since they last heard a single peep out of the Commission, and for the most part, his siblings are all getting along and staying out of (too much) trouble.

He can honestly say this is the most serene life has been for him in literal _decades_. And perhaps it's this lack of urgency that inadvertently causes Five to drop his guard, if only even just a smidgen.

And it's something so silly that triggers it, too.

Grace calls for her children to come eat lunch one rainy afternoon and of course Diego and Luther come bounding down the stairs, shoving and pushing one another along the way, as though there weren't enough room for the both of them (there is).

No one else is home. Five thinks Vanya is at a student's house giving a violin lesson today, Klaus is out and about doing Klaus things with poor Ben probably trudging along beside him, and Allison is visiting her daughter Claire for the week.

So it's just the three siblings for lunch, since Grace doesn't bother to eat and Pogo has been making himself scarce around the house as of late.

Lunch is tomato soup and grilled cheeses.

Five has slowly been adjusting to actually eating again, now that the food is plenty and he's not afraid someone (the Handler) has tried to poison his meals out of spite. He rips a piece off of his grilled cheese and goes to dip it in the soup when Luther accidentally knocks his elbow sideways and suddenly he's got a lap full of _hot_ tomato soup.

"Shit!" he curses, immediately blinking over to sit at the edge of the sink to spread cold water over his legs. It burns like hell but it’s not as if he hasn’t had much worse injuries to date, so why can he feel stupid tears prickling up?

“Christ, Five, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to!” Luther apologizes, guilt stricken and quite frankly, a little afraid of retribution. 

Diego lets out a long whistle, sympathetic as he watches the red welts already starting to appear on Five’s thighs and bony little knees. “You gotta put some ice on that.” he says, already reaching for one of the packs he knows Grace keeps stocked in their freezer. “Here.” he hands it to Five, expecting him to snatch it out of his hand in a huff. 

Instead his brother looks at it with big teary eyes and mutters out a polite, if timid, “Thank you.” and winces visibly as he places the ice pack clumsily over his lap. 

And fuck. 

He knows that look. 

It’s been a hot minute since the last time Diego actually gave into his Caregiver instincts, but it’s impossible to ignore them now. A part of his brain is in a state of shock and denial: there’s just _no way_ their angry tiny murder gremlin is a Little. 

Diego pushes past that thought and quickly takes over. “Here, this will feel better.” He places the ice pack over a hand towel and drapes that gently over Five’s burn. Five lets out a sad muffled whimper, his fingers curling under the kitchen counter, face contorted in pain. “I know it hurts but it’s gonna be ok.” 

Luther looks back and forth between his two brothers, befuddled as to why they’re acting so out of sorts before it clicks in his head. “Wait. Are you guys playing a prank on me?” Diego turns to him with a look that says, ‘shut up, I’ll explain later’. But Luther’s never been great at taking cues. “No, seriously, Five, are you _crying_?” 

Five shakes his head adamantly, embarrassed to be seen like this. He’s not quite entirely in his Little head space just yet, only teetering dangerously towards it, and he hates it. “Leave me alone.” he hiccups, covering his face with his forearm to keep them from seeing the tears he can’t hold back anymore. 

Diego sighs, glaring at their biggest sibling. “Dude, he’s a _Little_ , go get mom.” 

Luther goes wide eyed. “I-ok, yeah, ok.” he nearly stumbles over his own two feet in his haste to find Grace. 

“M’not a Little.” Five denies, biting his bottom lip to keep from outright sobbing. His legs hurt so much and now Luther and Diego _know_ , and that means everyone else will soon know, because no one in this family really knows how to keep a secret and he can’t let them find out just how weak he really is. 

He can’t.

He’s been hiding it so well and for so long. 

All for a measly bowl of tomato soup to give away his most well kept secret. 

“It’s alright you know? To be a Little. No one here is gonna’ judge you, Five.” Diego reassures him in a soft tone. He’d been so sure Five was a neutral, but he should’ve known to expect the unexpected when it came to the teleporting time traveler. 

“Hurts.” Five sniffles, wiping at his face with the sleeves of his too big for him night shirt. 

Diego can tell Five is _barely_ holding onto being an adult, but he’s also refusing to give completely into his head space, which can’t possibly be good. “I know honey, I know,” he frowns sympathetically. “We should put some neosporin on your legs. You think you can walk to the bathroom? I’m pretty sure we have a first aid kit in there. Or would you rather wait here for me?” 

Five shakes his head frantically. “Don’t leave!” his heart is hammering against his rib cage like a rabbits. 

“I won’t, I won’t, don’t worry.” Diego thanks his lucky stars when just in the nick of time Luther returns with Grace in tow. “Mom, can you get me the first aid kit?” 

Grace takes one look at the scene before her and doesn’t waste any time with questions. Within a minute she’s back with the kit. 

Diego takes the ointment and pops it open, “It’s gonna sting,” he warns Five. “But it’s also gonna’ help, so I just need you to stay still for me, ok?” 

Five shudders out a breath. “No, don’t want it.” he cries pitifully. “ _Hurts_.” he buries his head into the closest object: Luther’s body. His hands clutch desperately at the fabric of his t-shirt. “Don’t wanna.” 

Luther feels as though his heart is being squeezed. 

Five looks so terribly small like this, clinging to him and sobbing and in pain, and it’s all his fault. Him and his stupid clumsy big body. 

Gently, he picks the boy up in his arms, careful not to further irritate the burns. He might not be a Caretaker like Diego, but he’s also not heartless. “If it helps, you can grab onto my hand as tight as you like while Diego applies the neosporin. How’s that sound?” 

Five, face now between the crook of his neck and shoulder, nods slowly, reaching a hand out for Luther’s and holding on for dear life. 

Diego is quick with the application, though it breaks his heart to bits and pieces to hear Five’s cries grow more and more pained throughout the process. When he’s done he dresses the burns with a couple of nonstick Telfa pads. “There we go. All done. You were really brave, buddy.” 

Five blinks up at him from under his long wet eyelashes and nods but doesn’t say anything, choosing instead to snuggle even closer to Luther, who’s comforting warmth he’s keen to soak up. 

Luther is reminded vaguely of the time they found Five passed out and drunk as a skunk. He’d carried him all the way back home, bridal style, in much the same way he’s holding Five now. He notes with concern that Five is actually lighter now than he was back then. And it’s not as if he’d been heavy two months ago. They really need to start making sure Five is eating enough... 

Five’s head falls unceremoniously atop his shoulder and his eyes start drooping shut, though it’s clear he’s trying his best to fight it. 

Diego lets out a quiet laugh. “Looks like someone needs a nap.” 

“M’not tired.” Five slurs out tiredly, cracking a yawn that doesn’t help make his case at all. 

Grace smiles. “I’ll prepare a bottle.” she half whispers. 

Diego gives her a funny look. “I don’t think he’s that young?” 

As she pours milk into a kettle to boil, she simply says, “A mother always knows.” and when it’s ready, Grace pours it into an insulated sports drink bottle with a straw from the cabinet. “This should do until I can run to the store for supplies.” She hands it to Diego. “Wait for it to cool down a bit before letting him drink.” 

Diego, never one to question his mother, nods dutifully. 

Luther carries Five upstairs to his room. When he tries to put him down on the bed Five goes from drowsy and half asleep to immediately aware and though it looks like he’d like nothing more than to reach his arms back out for Luther, Diego can see the Little force himself not to. Still, he can’t stop the tears from appearing again, though he does quiet himself this time, letting out barely just the hint of a sob. 

Luther feels so bad he nearly goes to pick him up again, until Diego pats him on the shoulder and tells him to sit on the other side of the bed next to Five. “Hey, shh, it’s ok, we’re right here Five. We’re not going anywhere. But we figure that pillow is probably more comfortable than Luther’s giant rock hard shoulders, yeah?” 

Five shakes his head, tears still falling down his cheeks, but he does relax slightly with both his brothers surrounding him. They don’t look as if they’re about to leave anytime soon. 

Diego pours a couple of drops of milk onto his palm and designates it cooled down enough. “Here you go bud, this will help, drink up.” 

Maybe Mom was right, he thinks, when he hands Five the bottle and watches him fumble with it-he’d been thinking Five was probably around three or four, but his motor skills leave a lot to be desired, so he might actually be even younger than that. 

“I gotcha.” Diego takes the bottle and places the straw so that it’s against his lips. Five scoots closer, wraps his fingers around the ones holding the cup, pretending he’s holding it up on his own, and leans the majority of his weight up against Diego’s side and shoulder. He drinks the warm milk, albeit slowly, having a bit of trouble with the hard straw top.

Five goes completely limp after only minutes, the milk not even half way gone. His eyes close shut and his breathing evens out as he lets exhaustion take over. Diego doesn’t have it in him to move away from under his brother, and instead lays down next to him with Five still using him as a substitute pillow. Luther stays as well, nearer to the edge of the bed. 

Which is how, an hour later, Grace ends up finding her boys; asleep soundly against one another, all tucked away. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading :) 
> 
> originally posted on my tumblr: mynumberfivethings


End file.
